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“I’m not. I’m tired, soaking wet, and ready for a good night’s rest.” I chuckled.
“Well, let’s hurry and get you checked in,” she said. “Is the reservation under your name?”
“Yes. Ulysses Washington,” I said.
Her acrylic nails clicked and clacked as she typed on the keyboard.
“Umm, spell your name, please,” the clerk said. She seemed confused.
“U-l-y-s-s-e-s Washington. Do I need to spell Washington?” I asked, trying to mask my building frustration.
With her eyes glued to the screen and her fingers dancing on the keyboard, she frowned. “No, it’s just I don’t have a reservation for you. But it could be our system. With this storm, our power has been going out and I’m not sure what’s happening with the backup generator.” She tucked her red hair behind her ear as she studied the monitor.
I sighed long and hard. My teeth were already chattering because I was still wet and cold.
“Ohmygod!!! Is that him? Hurry, get the camera! Get the camera!” a woman screamed.
I whipped my head around to see two women howling with laughter and falling all over themselves digging into their bags. When I caught a good sight of them, I was embarrassed. One was dressed in a pair of stockings held up by a garter belt with a matching lace bodice. The other wore a sheer bodysuit with knitted flowers strategically covering her nipples and her crotch.
“Oh, my effin …” one screamed. “Flex!!! I’m your number one fan! I can’t believe it’s you, right here in the flesh!” she cried.
When my eyes focused in on this Flex, I could’ve sworn my coochie twitched. He was a statuesque mass of chocolate muscles perfectly distributed over a six-foot-three-inch frame, and he looked delicious. If only I wasn’t so tired, I may have been willing to be his number two fan.
“Um, Mister! Mister!” the other woman yelled at another man who was walking by. He was wearing a pair of leather chaps and a jock strap with a fishnet wife beater.
What kind of party are these people going to?
“Please, can you take a picture of us with Flex?” She all but shoved the camera toward the man, grabbed her friend by the arm, and snuggled up next to Flex with a massive grin across her face.
I turned back to the clerk. “You find me yet? And what’s going on here tonight?”
She finally looked up. The expression on her face was as baffling as it had been from the moment she started typing. “Oh, we’re hosting an adult entertainers’ convention. Did you not see it when you booked the reservation? We were required to post it.”
“Ah, no, ma’am, I did not,” I said, flustered.
She stopped typing. “Well, is that going to be a problem for you? Most years they book the entire property, but this year they had quite a few cancellations so we have vacancies. But things can get pretty wild,” she said, with one eyebrow raised.
I swallowed hard, glanced back at the group posing for pictures, then said, “Ma’am, I don’t care what’s going on here. I really am just tired, wet, and ready to relax.” I added, “Inside my room.”
Nodding her head, she returned her focus to the computer screen. “Yeah, I don’t understand. I have nothing booked under your name. You know what, why don’t you go to the restroom at the end of the hall and change into some dry clothes. This might take a few minutes. So you go get comfortable, let me search for you, and that way, by the time you get back, everything should be worked out.”
What choice did I have? I wanted desperately to be in my room, but it didn’t make any sense for me to stand there soaking wet while she searched, so I turned to leave.
The minute I pushed open the door to the ladies’ room, I heard the moaning sounds. There was no confusion about what I was hearing.
“Oh, yes, yes, right there,” a woman cried.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. Really? At a hotel, and you two couldn’t take it upstairs?
Just as I was about to turn around and walk back out, another woman wearing a sequined tank top for a minidress strolled in and walked into a stall. There was no way she didn’t hear what was going on, so it was obvious she didn’t care.
I eased into the second stall and started to change clothes.
“Good for you?” the man asked.
Sounds of skin s
lapping, heavy breathing, and more moaning filled the room. But it was obvious they weren’t concerned with the toilets flushing, doors opening, and water running into the sink.
